bar twenty-four.

place: covell

hood: los feliz

drink: midnight companion – a red wine

the last bar in my blog experiment, way overdue but here goes… i went with a fresh face, mascara and lip gloss only. hair down, middle part and straight. i wore black skinny jeans, a black v-neck tee, a funky tribal necklace, black booties and a chic burlap colored moto jacket. in retrospect, it was a lot of black – possibly some kind of postmortem expression on the death of this experiment. ok, that’s heavy. at any rate, the outfit must have worked for me…
i walked into covell, a dark, quaint and sexy little bar on hollywood blvd. i headed for the end of the bar where there were a few empty seats. the bartender, jenna, came right over. we looked at each other as if we knew each other. we studied each other for a bit until i said, “where do i know you from?” she said, “i saw you walk in and thought, oh, i know her.” i asked her if she worked in fashion, her response, “no, but you must because you’re so stylish.” um, boom. outfit success. jenna, you rock.
we moved on to more important things, wine. i wanted one glass. red. rich. heavy. i told jenna i like earthy, i like bold, i like a hint of vanilla. maybe a little smoky. she replied, “got it. i know what to do.” and she did. she came back with two for me to try. one, a tempranillo that was spicy and tasty. two, a red wine from a local guy at silverlake wines. it was his first batch. he only produced a small amount. and it was amazing. the name, midnight companion, seemed fitting. there was no contest. i asked jenna for a big pour of midnight companion. she obliged and left me with my date. the wine, i mean.
i sat back with my companion and took in the energy of this place. which i enjoyed. it was a pretty hip crowd, i’d wager mostly industry folk. i loved the moodiness of covell. it had an old-world, nostalgic feel to it; yet with modern flair. i was digging it. there were lots of guys around. and most of them attractive. for whatever reason, (i know the reason) i was more into my wine than seeing if a guy was going to approach. had the lull in my experiment taken the importance off my mission? i am supposed to be getting out and getting social, if you recall. so, back to my companion… i loved him. he made me feel warm. he made me feel at ease. he went down smooth. he gave me purpose. which i ended up needing.
a guy approached and sat down one seat over from me at the end of the bar. he was very casually dressed. shorts, tee, big cardigan and his hair was in a top knot. that’s right. a top knot. from what i could tell – he was a regular. he seemed to know all of the people working. he talked freely with them. he never said a word to me. i sat, with my midnight companion, and began to feel very strange. it was odd to me to be seated so close to someone and not say hello. and not in a “i’m picking you up,” kind of way. but in a “we’re two human beings occupying the same space, why wouldn’t we be kind and say hi?” i sat with it, for what seemed like an eternity. i considered talking to my companion, but that just wouldn’t fly. i reminded myself that i am the gal who can talk to anyone. i recalled the “aggressive communicator” title i had previously been given, and i spoke. “it seems really odd to be sitting this close to someone and not say hi. hi.” he looked over and replied, “hi.” then he looked down at his phone. “is this your neighborhood bar?” i asked. he barely peeked up from his phone to reply, “yes.” that was it. i attempted no further contact. message received.
at this point, i am beyond grateful for my midnight companion. and it made me think about people, alone, drinking at a bar. are they finding more solace in a drink, than in human interaction? this experiment started out as a means to connect with people. tonight, it resulted in me connecting with my drink. it was time to go. and perhaps, not a bad note to end on.
i asked jenna for my check. she didn’t want to see me go and that was so nice. she was beyond lovely. i told her i needed to get home to my dog. my constant companion. she understood. completely.

overall score: 7 dates

cheers,

Traci

the one. the only.

the one. the only.

the big. the bold.

the big. the bold.

buy this wine.

buy this wine.

 

 

Follow Up

i know. i have one bar left to go. my apologies for the delay – i’ve been writing my tv pilot. i am finished… hooray!
as i write this, i am wearing shorts, a striped sweatshirt, and flip flops. my hair is a windblown, knotty mess and i have last nights mascara smeared under my eyes. so, yeah, i look amazing.
i wanted to catch you up on some of the guys that asked for number thus far. it will be pretty brief.

*the guy from the morrison – never called.
*the guy from 55 degree wine bar  – quincy, the music producer, and i have become friends. there was never really a romantic spark, i don’t think. but we keep in touch. he swings by occasionally. sometimes he brings me lemons from his parents lemon tree. how sweet. i have yet to make lemonade.
*the guy from 55 degree wine shop – the rufus sewell look-alike, the one that asked me for a beer on the spot. the one i had great conversation with. the one who talked about a bar he wanted to take me to… never called.

as you can imagine, i have been fairly discouraged. why would a guy ask for your number and not use it? just to see if he can get it? no idea. i take comfort in the saying, “rejection is protection.” perhaps i’ve been a bit worried about how this whole thing comes off. and maybe that is why i have yet to visit my last bar.

i am open to suggestions for my last bar. if you live in los angeles, or have a favorite bar here that i haven’t visited… send me a reply.

cheers,

Traci

bar twenty-three.

place: 1642 beer and wine

hood: echo park

drink: white wine – no idea what kind

um, yes. that is really all that need be said. but here goes. i tried to go to this place last week, as i needed to get my blog post in then. but no. 1642 was so packed last wednesday night that i couldn’t even find an inch of wall space to occupy. i was forced to leave with my tail tucked between my legs. not before noticing all the hot guys that were there. seriously. so tonight, i went earlier. and it was hot tamale night. and hot guy night. score. free tamales from 6-8. how can you go wrong with that? you can’t. and i didn’t. i wore a cute, not virginal, white dress, denim jacket and booties. hair was in a side braid. no make-up. i know. i just could not make myself. viva au naturel!
this place is small, dimly lit and just lovely. the kind of place i could frequent. it felt occupied in a ghostly sense, but i did not have my emf meter handy ;). four other ladies sat at the bar talking to each other. none of them spoke to me. the bartender kept me company for most of my visit. after tasting a couple of whites, i settled on an italian one. it was crisp, not buttery. like a white wine should be on a hot day. there were fans going, and there is something so soothing about the constant whirring of a fan. it puts me at ease and makes me feel at home.
at home with my wine and chicken mole tamale, i engaged in conversation with the bartender. we’ll call him bike boy. the kind you pedal, not the kind you rev and annoy people with. he was charming, smart, funny and adorable. the perfect bartender. we got to know a bit about each other, which was fun. we are all here together after all… connected in some way, and it was good to connect… with bike boy. we share a love of living by our own rules, even if only in the smallest increments. he is a musician and sometimes plays there for tuesday night ragtime. they have an upright piano which i am certain authenticates the sound. i plan to go back and check it out. also, on wednesday night they have a western swing band. i think i heard that right.
this little place has a lot going for it. the right space, the right decor, the right vibe. there were guys there, sure. but i must admit – this experiment has become about much more than seeing if i can meet a guy. i feel like that cheapens  every other experience i have had. i’ve had great conversations and brief encounters with people that have enriched my life. and you can’t get that behind a computer screen. get out there. life is happening.

overall score: 8 dates

cheers,

Traci

yes. it's in there.

yes. it’s in there.


the writing is on the… pole.

the writing is on the… pole.

 

bar twenty-two.

place: franklin & co.

hood: franklin village

drink: modern times black house stout

totally spur of the moment, but i needed to get out of the house. i wore black pants with off-white side stripes, a cream colored silk tee and black studded sandals. hair down, mascara and a fuchsia lip. i walked into this packed place to find only one seat at the end of the bar. there was a super hot guy standing next to it so i asked, “is someone sitting here?” “nope, it’s all yours.” not only that, but he pulled the stool out for me so i could sit. i thanked him, his beer came and he went away. drats.
there were two bartenders, a guy and a girl. the guy came over, pointed his finger and said, “what can i get ya?” no hello, no hi, just what can i get ya. to his defense, they were slammed. the girl never said a word to me and we made eye contact a few times. my stout came and it was delicious. i closed out my tab right away, so i could just enjoy my brew. and enjoy my brew was exactly what i did. that was all i did. i took in a few sights from the bar, but no one approached me. no one else spoke to me. not even the girl sitting next to me. the bartender never asked how i was. nothing.
now, i did like this place. the energy was great. definitely a spot for locals, as i noticed they got special treatment. and by special treatment, i mean niceness. no one was an ass, but certainly no warm and fuzzies here. i was ready to go. i finished my beer and headed out.
on my way out i ran into a friend. i was so excited to see a friendly face that i hugged him three times. and he was with a friend, that i also hugged. only once though. hugging someone you don’t know that well three times could send the wrong message. at that moment, i felt like i belonged there. before then, i hadn’t realized how out of place i felt. and i hadn’t had that experience before. i am not going to dwell on it, nor am i going to blame it on franklin & co., their bartenders, nor the crowd… we’ll chalk it up to an off night. and everybody has those. right?

overall score: 5 dates (because of their wall of whisky)

cheers,

Traci

me stout.

me stout.

wall of whisky, ruined by flat screens.

wall of whisky, ruined by flat screens.

 

bar twenty-one.

place: bar one

hood: noho

drink: tokyo mule

plus – this place has happy hour until 9 pm. plus – this place has a cool vibe. plus – this place is super laid back. plus – this place plays vinyl… the real deal. i listened to it with my own ears. i saw the records. they even had charles bradley on vinyl. and aretha franklin. with all of this, i could not care about the one obvious minus… there were no men in the joint. except for the bartender. let me back up…
it was a jeans kind of an evening, but i wore a semi-fancy top and those shooties you love to hear about. but the hair was down and the make up casual. i strolled into this place and the only person there was the bartender. me and the tender. i said hi. he said hi. he brought me a menu and we chatted about drinks. it took me forever to decide. i went with his suggestion, the tokyo mule. i’m sure the absence of the moscow mule was not a political choice, but considering current relations, it’s best to keep them separate. back to my mule, it was damn tasty. and refreshing. i loved the mint. i’d love to say it was a sipper but nope. it went down way to easy. they also have beer and wine on the menu, and sweet v (the bartender) let me try a couple of things. i tasted a delicious stout with chocolate and some kind of pepper, yum. and i tasted a syrah-grenache blend, double yum. that wine was beyond delicious – but i wanted a chilly night, a fire and a man to go with it. a girl can dream.
back to tokyo and this bar. every night seemed to bring something different, there was a trivia night, a burlesque night and this night was analog night. i love how you can hear the needle glide across the record. and the music sounds amazing, but it’s really about the whole experience. it is so nostalgic. i could have stayed and listened to music all night. just me and sweet v… until others started showing up. no, i mean it’s good. i want the place to stay in business. it has a definite neighborhood vibe. the kind of place you might want to walk to. often.
i did run into some fun people, heard some interesting stories, had some laughs and annoyed sweet v with all of my picture taking. but i did it all for you. enjoy…

overall score: 8 dates

cheers,

Traci

this here is the tokyo mule.

this here is the tokyo mule.

ambiance.

ambiance.

and more.

and more.

yes. a record player. and albums.

yes. a record player. and albums.

the shit.

the shit.

bar twenty.

place: left coast wine bar

hood: glendale

drink: rosé

the best thing about tonight may have been my outfit. ok, not exactly. i did like this place. but there were no men there. zero. nadda. nil. none. zilch. you with me? back to the outfit. cute shorts with a retro print, black sweater with a perforated detail, a black tank underneath and my tan suede booties. woot. hair down, red lip.
so i’ve known about this place for a while. i read about it in this crave los angeles book. crave los angeles, the urban girl’s manifesto, caters to women entrepreneurs. and i fully support that. it was chock full of lady power. check it out.
left coast wine bar is in a very trendy part of glendale, you can see the lit up americana sign when sitting at the bar. but it is just far enough away from the crowd at outdoor mall land. it is owned by a woman. i only saw women working there. and there were only women drinking there. the oxytocin was flying. there was a great energy, lots of chatter and lots of laughter. infectious for sure.
i sat at the bar and ordered a rosé. it’s just what i was craving. it wasn’t a super fancy one, but good. i sat at the bar, alone. a few of the ladies working there checked on me several times. they were all lovely. one of them even invited me to join her at a table with some of her friends. i thanked her and stayed my (man) course. my… very lonely course. i finished my wine. paid my bill and hightailed it out of there to meet a friend. it had nothing to do with left coast wine bar and everything to do with that i wanted a familiar face to laugh with. sitting at a bar drinking alone, i can do that no problem. sitting at a bar, drinking and laughing alone… well, let’s just not.

overall score: 3 dates

cheers,

Traci

the rose.

the rosé.

more importantly… the outfit.

more importantly… the outfit. am i right?

off the grid.

place: 55 degree wine shop

hood: mine

drink: not really important

i popped into the wine/beer shop after my outing at the desert rose. just wanted to see if the frenchman was working. we like to engage over metaphysical musings. he was working. as i walked in, i noticed one guy in there looking at the craft beer selection. i merely saw the back of his head. i worked my way up to the counter, feeling the need to slide my hands over the rows of wine bottles on either side of me. this made a horrible screeching sound, which made me laugh.
while chatting with the frenchman, the other guy walked over and put his beer down on the counter. i checked out his selections and gave my approval. we all started chatting. he was nice. and had gorgeous eyes. he turned away and came back with a bottle of wine that had a hello kitty label. “seriously? people buy this,” he asked. the frenchman replied, “well, yes. some people are crazy about hello kitty.” gorgeous eyes and i exchanged a disapproving glance over the hello kitty wine. no. people. just no. do not go to a dinner party and show up with a hello kitty wine. do not.
i reached over and picked up a bottle of wine that i love. “you should try this. it’s amazing.” i made sure the name on the label in front faced him as i handed it over. “huh, sexual chocolate. really?” “oh, yes. it is quite an experience.” the frenchman chimed in, “it is actually very good.”
everything else happened very quickly. a guy came in with his dog… “oh, you live on brunswick right?” he looked a bit surprised, so i jumped in… “i used to live on brunswick. you’ve probably seen me or my ex husband walking our dog. i think our dogs have met.” then another guy came up from the cellar that i knew. i said hi to him. then gorgeous eyes checked out. as i asked the frenchman about his wife gorgeous eyes handed his business card over to us both. he had a confused look on his face then said, “so you’re not his wife?” “nope not his wife.” and then, “and you aren’t anyone’s girlfriend?” “nope. i’m solo.” and then gorgeous eyes busted out, “oh, would you like to grab a drink?” i was a bit surprised at the directness. no. i was floored by it. this has not happened. ever. “you mean now?” i mean did he mean, now? was a guy really asking me for a drink on the spot? “yes, now. we can go next door… unless you have plans.” wooohoooooo!!!! i kept my composure and replied, “sure, that sounds great.”
and so… we went next door to link-n-hops, found a table in the corner and had a beer. it was like a date, but probably can’t be considered a date. who cares. how refreshing and delightful. a guy asked me for a drink, on the spot. we talked and laughed and got to know each other over the course of a couple of hours. he’s from jersey originally. super nice. down to earth. handsome. kind of resembles rufus sewell but with blue eyes and neither of them lazy. and i think rufus sewell is sexy as fuck. so there you have it.
he walked me to my car. asked for my number and then… yes, i am going to leave you hanging.

overall score: 1000 dates (cause it kind of felt like an actual date)

cheers,

Traci

rufus. so you get the idea.

rufus. so you get the idea.